


Exploring the Homosphere

by peppymint



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, War flashbacks, is it death if he comes back
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11363652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppymint/pseuds/peppymint
Summary: Unrelated Skull de Mort one-shots.  Mostly HP crossovers.  Seriously, he has to be hiding something.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing and no one. Tried to write the last chapter of Hidden Claws. This is what happened instead.

Origin  
The Arcobaleno had been positively giddy since the breaking of the curse. Especially once Verde had discovered a way to return them to their original ages at an accelerated rate. There had been annoyances along the way of course, banged fingers and toes from misjudging distances, lack of balance, constant soreness from muscles and bones growing too fast. Yet, for all their differences, the group all agreed it was more than worth it.

There had of course been flare-ups due to enforced isolation and close proximity to each other. There was a reason the group rarely gathered, but when all was said and done, they were elements of the same sky, bound together by more than thirty years of darkness. Others could try to comprehend the weight of the curse of the Arcobaleno, but only those who had endured it could ever truly understand.

In order to pass the time, the group had discussed all sorts of miscellaneous things. Being who they were, it was inevitable that the day each of them activated their flames would come up. It turned out that Lal had activated her flames protecting a group of younger street kids from a gang. Colonnello unsurprisingly had activated his on the battlefield. A fellow student had nearly killed Verde before his career could begin when the fool had caused an explosion. Fon had been born into the Triads, and as for Viper. Well, none of them were curious enough to pay her truly exorbitant rates for the information.

“What about you Skull?”

The youngest of the Arcobaleno, and he was so young, jumped to his feet. “The great Skull-sama remembers it well. It was to be my greatest stunt ever.”

Colonnello scoffed interrupting the cloud. “It couldn’t have been that great if you crashed Lackey.”

A cloud of gloom appeared over Skull’s head, the stuntman turning to exit the room only to freeze. Reborn was standing in the doorway. “S-Senpei,” he stuttered. How long had the other been standing there?

Any hope that Reborn hadn’t seen everything was crushed as the hitman began to applaud. “Very nice explanation Lackey,” he congratulated. “Very pat,” his voice dropped an octave matching the darkness in his eyes. “If you weren’t lying that is.”

The other Arcobaleno stared, looking back and forth between the two. Skull had lied? Why had he lied? What reason could he possibly have? They didn’t doubt Reborn’s expertise in this matter for a moment. The Sun was so skilled in interpreting tone and body language it was rumored he could read minds. 

Meanwhile Skull’s lips had formed a thin tight line. Great, he cursed to himself, just great. For more than thirty years he had fooled the whole of the mafia into thinking he was nothing more than he appeared; a cowardly fool who had gotten a place among the strongest seven through nothing but luck. And now all that had been ruined with one little sentence. The others were never going to let this go. Not ever.

“Care to explain lackey.” Though outwardly relaxed, inwardly Reborn was anything but. Decades he had known the Cloud, yet now. He scanned Skull from head to toe. It was like he was looking at a stranger.

Finally Skull groaned, walking over to a nearby cupboard and pulling out a bottle of bourbon. He wasn’t a big drinker, none of the Arcobaleno were. But today, he thought, he could make an exception. Eyeing the level of the alcohol through the glass, he pulled off the lid and took a big gulp. “I am not nearly drunk enough for this,” Skull moaned collapsing into a chair. He ignored the way Reborn’s hand twitched for his gun. If the hitman was going to shoot him, he would have done it years ago. Merlin knows he had gone out of his way to be an obnoxious little shit. 

The stuntman took another swig of the bourbon. “I’ll tell you,” he said at last. “On the condition that none of you ever bring this up again, to anyone.” He waited for everyone’s agreement before continuing. “It is common knowledge within the mafia that there are those who possess certain gifts,” his bright purple eyes flicked to Viper. “Abilities that have nothing to do with flames,” Skull smiled, it was not a nice expression. “It has always amused me they think such powers are only found among those who follow omerta.”

Verde blinked suddenly feeling very, very dumb. It was an unusual feeling for the scientist. Had he really limited himself so much?

“In theory,” Skull went on. “Anyone is capable of activating the flames of the dying will.” It was just that the vast majority of people didn’t. “But my people,” he shrugged. “It is all about blood. Either you have it, or you don’t. They separated themselves from the majority of the world centuries ago; hid their conclaves behind walls of power and illusion.” Taking another drink, the cloud scowled down at the bottle. Sometimes it did not pay to heal nigh instantly. He didn’t even feel slightly buzzed. 

“When I was born,” Skull’s voice trailed off as he decided which details to share. “I hate to call it a Civil War,” he said at last taking another drink. “It gives Tom and his merry band psychopaths a legitimacy they don’t deserve.” He waved a hand. “Think World War Two on a smaller scale. We purebloods are the master race and everyone else is garbage who can die or accept their rightful place as our slaves and all that rot.”

“Pureblood?” Verde questioned unable to keep his silence.

Skull took another drink. “Means you can trace your linage three generations back on each side; my Father was a pureblood, but my Mother was a first gen. That makes me a halfblood by their standards.” Of course that was the polite way to put it. “When I was fairly young, both my parents were murdered by the Hitler wannabe. They saved my life but Tom was quite offended he missed me. Kept coming back to try and finish the job.”

Reborn growled low in his throat. It didn’t matter that it had been decades ago. Skull was his, theirs. Full stop. No one touched the Cloud but them.

“I always found it funny,” Skull said softly swirling the bottle. “When someone called me a child; real children can’t name a dozen realistic ways they could die horribly.” Real children knew they were loved. 

“Define horribly.”

“I overheard a group of Tom’s minions discussing it once. The majority was for skinning me alive. Grayback though, he objected.” Skull paused just long enough to give his next words emphasis. “He thought it would be a shame to waste my pretty face.” Don’t get him wrong, he had no love for Lucius Malfoy. But at least the blond hadn’t laughed.

To say Fon’s teacup shattered would be an understatement. It disintegrated; tea and all, the Storm tucking slightly trembling fingers into his long silk sleeves. The martial artist’s eyes gleamed the red of his flames.

Skull lifted the bottle to his lips, and then grimaced when he found it was empty. “There was one way I was still a child though,” he admitted to the other Arcobaleno. “I had this fairytale idea that if I could just make it through the war, if I could kill him, I’d get my happy ending.” He fell silent.

Colonnello inched a little closer. “What happened then kora?”

Skull laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. “We were still burying the bodies when the interim head of our government called me to his office for a meeting.” He blinked his eyes rapidly as he was assaulted by memories he had long since tried to bury. “I didn’t think anything of it,” he said hoarsely, “when he offered me a drink. I knew him; we had fought on the same side. Even,” his voice wavered. “Even when I started to feel dizzy . . .” He had just thought everything was catching up with him.

“He told me I should be grateful for my life,” Skull forced out. “Grateful to spend the rest of my life chained in a room the size of a closet, where I couldn’t even see the sun.” He would have rather died. He forced his hands to unclench. “It was far from the first serious situation I had been in. But always before I had had the powers that were my birthright.”

“Suppressants,” Verde put in knowingly. It followed that like would know how to combat like.

Skull nodded. “The chains, the concoctions they poured down my throat, even the walls themselves; they were all meant to keep me powerless.”

It didn’t take a genius to know what happened then. “That’s when your flames activated.”

“Yes.” They had in fact activated so spectacularly that his hair and eyes had been purple ever since. “I had no idea what was going on, but I wasn’t going to stand around while I figured it out.” 

“So you ran,” Lal put in. 

“Damn straight. Took a slight detour to grab my late godfather’s motorcycle and hightailed it. So there I was, no money, no ID, no nothing.” Skull laughed again as he stood, swaying slightly. Maybe he was a little drunk. That had been a lot of liquor. 

“But I have always been a survivor.” Skull locked eyes with the other Arcobaleno. “And to be a stuntman, you don’t need an education, just skill. If you use an obvious pseudonym, if you act flamboyantly and cover your face with makeup.” He smiled; it was a look that made it clear for the first time that the Cloud was just as dangerous as his fellows. “It is all part of the show.”


	2. Veteran

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Colonnello did his best to quiet his breathing as he lay face down under the thick foliage. What a SNAFU this had turned out to be. He took a moment to wish that Lal was here. Or Reborn, or Fon, or Viper, heck even Verde; anyone but Skull. The Cloud was a loudmouthed, cowardly, crybaby, and absolutely the worst person to have as backup when things went south.

For an instant, just one, the sniper considered leaving him. He had a far higher chance of getting out of this one on his own. The thought was immediately disregarded. Useless or not, Skull was arcobaleno, just like him, and no one got left behind. Though speaking of Skull . . .

The blonde’s eyes narrowed as he eyed the figure to his side. Skull was acting mighty out of character. He hadn’t said a word since they had been forced to flee into the woods, and he lay motionless with an ease that could only come from hours of long practice. If not for the unmistakable cloud flames that brushed against his own he would wonder if the other was an imposter.

“Stay here,” Colonnello mouthed before sliding away into the underbrush to scout. A few minutes later he was back, to see Skull still in that uncharacteristic pose. “It looks clear,” the blond told the other, voice no louder than a whisper. “Let’s go.”

Skull merely nodded, falling back into a position the blond instantly recognized from many a campaign. The pair were silent shadows as they traveled through the woods, footsteps completely inaudible. Stealth however does not entirely account for luck, so it was inevitable they turned a corner to run smack dab into one of the enemy. 

The man immediately went for Colonnello, closing the distance before the sniper could bring his distance weapon to bear. In theory, it was the smarter move regardless of the blonde’s skill in hand to hand combat. In practice however . . .

A gloved purple hand closed over dark hair, yanking the man away from Colonnello. At the same time a knife came around and over the pale flesh of the man’s throat, the sharp blade cutting right through the stranger’s carotid arteries. He bled out in seconds, not even able to scream. After a swift look around, Skull dragged the body into a patch of thick bushes, kicking dirt and dried leaves over the site to hide the blood.

Colonnello frowned but said nothing, this was not the time. Nor was it the time when Skull suddenly grabbed him, yanking him back against a tree with a strength few credited to the Cloud.

“Don’t move.”

The Rain stiffened as a large, heavily armed group emerged from the underbrush. What the heck was Skull doing kora? They were in plain sight. Colonnello’s blue eyes widened in disbelief as the group’s leader looked straight at them, and then away, as though he hadn’t seen a thing. Truly, what had Skull done?

The blonde held his silence all the way out of the woods and back to the safehouse. However, the moment the door closed behind them he had the Cloud by the collar and up against the wall. “What the hell kora?”

Violet eyes looked at the other flatly before one hand came up to pry the other’s fingers away. “What?”

“Don’t give me that kora! I am talking about your change from lackey to war veteran kora!” Before he was a Rain, before he was sniper or arcobaleno, Colonnello was a solider. Yet before today he had never seen any signs of that in the Cloud.

Skull’s face was expressionless. “I am not like you,” he said. “I never chose to be a solider.” Unseen horrors danced behind his unearthly violet eyes. “I did not fight for my country. Nor for a cause. I fought, because I wanted to live.” He smiled. It was not a nice expression. "Is it any wonder I chose to leave those days behind me?"

This time, when Skull moved to leave, Collonnello made no move to stop him. He had a lot to think about.


	3. War: Future that Never Was

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Reborn’s lips formed a tight, grim line. This was not good. He and Skull had lost their pursuers for the moment, but he knew it was only a matter of time before they were found. The hitman took a slow breath through the mask Verde had developed, ignoring the slight burning sensation. How had things gone so wrong? 

It was a simple numbers game at this point. One on one, the Sun Arcobaleno could defeat any of the Millefiore’s men. However one on five, one on ten, one on twenty; eventually the odds had to turn. Reborn had not gained the title of the World’s Greatest Hitman, let alone held onto it for all these years, without being able to accurately gage a fight. 

Confidence was one thing, blind stupidity quite another, and, the fact of the matter was, this was one fight he could not win. One of them might make it back to the Vongola with the information they had acquired. One of them, not both. The only problem was how to get Skull to leave him behind.

Even a year ago, if someone had suggested he would have trouble convincing Skull to run from a fight, Reborn would have laughed in their faces. But that had been before. Before he had discovered that the Cloud temper was alive and well in their Cloud. Skull simply had a very long fuse. It turned out the stuntman could fight, when he thought the fight was worth it. 

Reborn never got the chance to speak, his entire body stiffening up as he toppled over. Frantically, the hitman tried to regain control of his body to no avail. What had happened? How had someone gotten so close?

It was only as gloved purple hands caught him, lowering his too small body gently to the ground that Reborn realized the truth. Coal black eyes met regretful violet as the Sun tried to speak. He couldn’t. Nor could he move a single muscle as the all-important jump drive was slipped over his neck.

“I’m sorry Renato. But no one dies for me.”

Those were the last words Reborn heard before the darkness engulfed him. When he awoke, it was all over. Skull had made a fine accounting of himself. However, that was little consolation to those left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sniff, I killed Skull
> 
> I will take solace in the fact he will get better
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and please review


	4. Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one
> 
> Peppymint's Fanfiction Blitz of 2018: Day Four of Seven

A small, scrawny boy with flyaway black hair and bright green eyes sat next to a dark lake. Shoulders hunched, tiny hands clasped tightly in his lap. It was cold. But Harry didn’t care. He had other things on his mind. He had thought, that day when Hagrid had brought him his letter; that he had finally found a place to belong. A place where he would fit in. One where he wasn’t a freak.

For one glorious month, that dream had almost come true. The boy-who-lived stuff was annoying, but everyone said that Voldemort was dead. Hopefully they would get over it. Any hope that he really was normal though had come crashing down when Hermione tripped in the hall and scrapped her hand.

It’s just a scratch, his friend had said. No need to see Madame Pomfrey. Why a couple weeks and you won’t even be able to tell it happened. And Harry’s mouth had snapped shut.

“A couple weeks,” the eleven year old mocked. “Just a couple of weeks.” His eyes burned, but Harry refused to let any tears fall. Don’t let anyone know they hurt you. That was a lesson he had learned from the Dursley’s years ago and he had learned it well. 

Taking out one of his potion knives, Harry pressed the edge firmly against the tip of one of his fingers. His face was impassive as a small stream of blood ran down his hand. It didn’t last long. It never did, a line of purple fire sealing up the cut in seconds, not even leaving a scar behind. A little water from the Black Lake and no one would ever know anything had happened.

Clearly, whatever those flames were, they weren’t magic. Harry wasn’t about to go looking for answers either. Not when hiding them was so much easier, at least that is what the boy told himself. Harry had never been able to fit in with his family, no matter how hard he tried. But this time he would he swore. He was Harry James Potter, wizard, and nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Baby
> 
> There is no way, even with what is written in the books, that a normal child would have come through a childhood with the Dursley’s without permanent damage. Harry’s going to be even more depressed when he figures that out.


	5. Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one
> 
> Credit goes to the amazing Umei No Mei for deciding Talbot is Nicholas Flamel

Two figures stood in the shadows of the large mansion, listening to what was shaping up to be a truly epic party. Even the Varia had showed up. With the aid of Verde the former Arcobaleno had regained their former ages and intended to celebrate all night long.

“Are you ever going to tell them?” the older man asked from where he was standing half hidden in the bushes.

Skull just snorted. “No.”

The man currently known as Talbot stared off into the distance as he remembered. At least, it looked like he was staring. It was hard to tell with the blindfold. It had started off as a perfectly normal spring day. That is before the Cloud of the Arcobaleno had appeared on his doorstep with about a decade and a half worth of research and a polite request for ‘Master Flamel’ to look over his work. 

The alchemist shook his head admiringly. “I still don’t know how you got your hands on some of those texts.” That said books were rare was a massive understatement. The knowledge alone would have been worth it even if the Cloud hadn’t funded their joint project out of his own pocket, sparing no expense. 

Skull just shrugged. The Black family had been hoarders, and the Malfoy’s owed him big. Also, money. It was one of the few times being the sole heir of a wealthy line had benefited him. Besides, it wasn’t as though he could take full credit. Without Talbot he would have been unable to test his theories and Tsuna was the one who had supplied the final piece. He said as much aloud. 

“Tsunayoshi-kun is a promising young man, and his intuition is as sharp as his ancestor’s ever was. Still,” Talbot reached up to fiddle with one of his earrings. “If it had been that simple to break the curse someone would have come up with a solution centuries ago.”

Soft laughter filled the air. “People don’t like to think too hard about miracles Master Talbot. It makes them worry they might get taken away. Besides,” Skull continued. “It doesn’t matter.” The slender figure pushed himself away from the wall. “I don’t need anyone’s thanks for breaking the Curse of the Arcobaleno. They don’t owe me a thing.” He moved to walk away only to be stopped by the hand that settled on one shoulder.

“You’re a good man Skull de Mort, and don’t ever let anyone tell you different.” The odd pair walked back to the party together. Unaware of the wide eyed child they left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even for an anime the fact that Talbot just happened to be studying the Arcobaleno and Tsuna just happened to come up with a solution that they could implement immediately boggles the mind. I think that Skull and Talbot having been working on it for years is much more realistic.
> 
> Also, to those who are curious, Talbot does know Skull is a wizard and suspects rightly, given the Cloud’s ‘opinions’ on the Blood War he isn’t pure blood but he does not know Skull is Harry Potter. Might write a before and after scene someday but no promises. You’ll just have to wait and see.


	6. Dangerous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing and no one

Skull’s expression softened, not that anyone could tell under his helmet, as Colonnello flirted with Lal in a totally over the top fashion. Judging by the blush on her face, it looked like he had a pretty good chance of winning the pool. 

Thirty years ago, Skull would have laughed until he couldn’t breathe if someone had suggested he would one day consider the other Arcobaleno his family. But somehow, it had happened. And unlike the first time he had trusted his heart to others, the Cloud knew that if he was ever truly in trouble, they would have his back. 

It was somewhat disheartening, looking back on things, to realize just how much the narrowmindedness and prejudice of the wizarding world had snuck into his own psyche. It had been a slow, insidious process, but no less thorough for all of that. At what point, Skull sometimes wondered, had his younger self started viewing those without magic as lesser.

Even Hermione, brilliant Hermione, fervent believer in authority, in right and wrong. The champion of the oppressed wherever they might be found. His childhood friend hadn’t hesitated to modify her parents’ memories and send them away. The witch had not shared her concerns, had not asked for their opinions. She had just done it, and no one had said a word. And why? Because they were just muggles.

Skull snorted, ah yes, muggles. Muggles who outnumbered the wizards and witches of the world tens of thousands to one, and that was a conservative guess. Who had walked on the moon; that had weapons that could shred a man like Swiss cheese; who had invented the atomic bomb. Clearly, the stuntman thought sarcastically to himself, lack of magic made one both helpless and stupid. Not.

Voldemort and his Death Eaters had attacked civilian families in their homes. People who hadn’t even know they were in danger, and then thought themselves powerful for it. Sure, the Cloud conceded, a Shield could block a bullet, if the wizard saw it coming, if they were fast enough. Also assuming the pureblood moron even realized they were in danger. Not likely.

Skull sometimes wished he could bring the bastard back. Just so he could see the look on Tom’s face when he realized just how inventive mere muggles could be. And that was even before one took Dying Will Flames into account. He almost pitied the Death Eater that tried to attack a Mafia Family. Almost, but not quite.

The Cloud smirked; the expression looking like it would be more at home on Reborn’s face than his own. No, the man once known as Harry Potter wasn’t worried about the wizards catching up with him one day. If anything, it was the wizards that should worry.


End file.
